From the Diamond to the Runway

Project Runway: Toe-Sock's First Time
Fashion generally disgruntles me. I come from a long line of men who believe that to be fashionable is to be invisible. In other words, if your clothes are attracting the glances of the multitude, you’re clearly doing something wrong.

This means you, young lady in the gladiator-style sandals. It is already hard enough to make feet presentable and you have to go and remind me of Russell Crowe? For shame. Of course, men do have things a bit easier in the sartorial arena. The simple pairing of a black tee-shirt and jeans has the remarkable ability to render a man invisible AND increase the likelihood he will receive that appreciative glance from ’lil miss doe-eyes over there.

A black tee-shirt and jeans say many things about a man, including, "I am not trying very hard and am thus very secure in my masculine charm, forsooth no desperation here!" Well, it’s unlikely my tee-shirt and jeans ever said the word “forsooth,” but they did laugh heartily at the fellow bellying up to the bar in slacks and a salmon-colored dress shirt. "Hey business-man! I don't care what they told you at the boutique, that shirt is pink. PINK." Anyhow, lest I stray too far a-field of my point, let me restate the obvious: Fashion has secured precious little space for itself in my life. Which makes it all the more preposterous that Project Runway is my favorite show on television.

I know what you are thinking: Reality televison? Fashion!? The Bravo network!!? Have you gone soft on us, Toe-sock?

Ye of little faith, fear not—it is still possible to maintain masculinity while indulging in the delight that is Project Runway. Do you know how hard it was to type that last sentence while flexing and scratching myself at the same time? While Heidi Klum and company are galavanting around the runway on Wednesday evening, you’ll find me drinking a cold one. And I'll probably catch Sportscenter after Runway wraps up. And in a perfect world those model ladies would walk down the runway at the end of the show to Le Tigre or Company Flow instead of whatever euro-trendy electro-candy is popular at the time.

What I'm trying to say is that it isn't an anomaly for a heterosexual man to be into Project Runway. Ladies, park your husband, your significant other, your landlord, or the mailman in front of the television and you'll find that the anomaly is the straight man who doesn't find Runway every bit as compelling as Lost or those spaceship shows on the Sci-fi channel.

*Picture the following text billowing up out of a hazy 'flashback' style sitcom fade-in*

I remember when I lost my Project Runway virginity like it was just yesterday. It was a cold, cold night but my baby made me some chicken potpie. She also mentioned that "some show" that she very much enjoys was premiering that night and that I should watch it with her. She explained the premise and somewhere between designers and judges, I lost interest. "Let me grab my Dostoevsky," I exclaimed with a condescending look. Moments later we hunkered down on our creaky green couch. The program began and instantly I was hooked.

It was the premier of Project Runway: Season 2, in which all manner of hipsters and homosexuals, arrogant upstarts and slim young things congregate for a chance at $100,000 and a mentorship at the Banana Republic Design-a-torium. Immediately, their television personae coalesce. There's the gangly mean guy with all the facial hair and tattered more-is-more style. There's the ridiculously short Asian woman with the clean lines agenda. There's the guy they kicked off last year before he had a chance to prove himself (Daniel Franco, where did ya go?), the kid fresh out of design school, a half dozen others you know never have a chance... and of course there's Andrae.

I repeat, I'm hooked. My copy of The Brothers Karamazov lies untouched on the coffee table. I begin extrapolating theories as to who would win it all and whining that there are at least a dozen more episodes before I'll even know who’s in the running for Fall Fashion Week.

At this point, I'm sure you are all wondering what exactly makes Project Runway so great.

But, really: what doesn't? I mean, we're talking dresses made from groceries, for goodness sake! Each episode has all of the fun engendered by ingenious design projects coupled with the docu-drama of Real World-esque in-house squabbling. There are heroes and villains, guys to laugh at, and underdogs to root for. And on almost every show, the dress you think should win doesn't for inexplicable reasons. The judges are uncompromisingly harsh and the designers’ back-room impressions of said judges uncompromisingly hilarious. Needless to say, I now count the days between episodes.

Now that the show has returned for Season 3, my life is a bit more complete. It seems there's a little fashionista-bug in my Cleveland Indians Baseball cap after all.